


Safety by Black Crystall Draygon

by GO_Library_archivist



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Schmoop, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 20:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GO_Library_archivist/pseuds/GO_Library_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley comes to a realisation while lying in Aziraphale's bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safety by Black Crystall Draygon

**Author's Note:**

> Note from [Quantum_Witch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Witch/profile): This story was originally archived at [The Good Omens Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Good_Omens_Library), which I maintained for eight years until I closed it due to lack of funds and decreased usership. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing the GOL's stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in July 2013. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Good Omens Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/TheGoodOmensLibrary/profile), or through the [GO_Library_archivist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GO_Library_archivist/profile) account.

Safety by Black Crystall Draygon

Summary: Crowley comes to a realisation while lying in Aziraphale's bed.  
Categories: Slash Fanfic Characters:  Aziraphale, Crowley  
Genres:  Romance  
Warnings:  Fluff / Schmoop  
Chapters:  1 Completed: Yes  
Word count: 525 Read: 183  
Published: 26 Sep 2009 Updated: 26 Sep 2009

 

Story Notes:

Written February 2007 during a drabble-war with my Evil Twin. (Originially posted on Valentine's Day.)

* * *

 

 

Crowley took a long drag from the cigarette dangling from his fingers, then exhaled in a slow rush of breath, sending smoke pluming towards the ceiling. Aziraphale, asleep with his head on Crowley's shoulder, wrinkled his nose in distaste but did not wake.

The demon smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth from the body beside him and the dull recollections of pleasure that still throbbed inside him, making his limbs and eyes heavy. Aziraphale shifted a little closer, his breath hot against Crowley's fevered skin. Crowley looked down at him.

Aziraphale's face has lost most of its laughter-lines and worry-lines, but somehow seemed no less ancient. Sleep had parted his lips, damp curls had fallen over his forehead and cheeks, but they served to make him look more angelic rather than less. Crowley looked away and took another drag of his cigarette and wondered if he would look the same if he hadn't fallen.

He wondered if Aziraphale had ever been on the brink of falling, and how different things would be if he had. But then he dismissed it -- Aziraphale was good, and proper, and had funny ideas about morals and consciences*, and liked tartan and books and smelled of dust and was Crowley's only friend.

He was Crowley's only friend.

A sudden and disconcerting feeling of protectiveness slammed into Crowley with almost physical force, and he gasped. Aziraphale's eyes flickered open for a moment; he pressed a kiss to Crowley's pale skin and muttered, "Shh, 's safe. G'back t'sleep."

Crowley stared down at him for a long while, letting the cigarette in his fingers burn itself out into wisps of smoke and drop ash onto Aziraphale's quilt. He had not realised until now just how much the angel meant to him -- even the frantic kissing and the desperate rock of flesh against mortal flesh hadn't brought it home so sharply, like a twisting knife in his human heart.

He had been planning on waiting for a few hours, until midnight -- or dawn if he was feeling generous -- then slipping out of Aziraphale's arms and down the stairs and out to the Bentley. But every time he tried to extricate himself from the angel's gentle embrace, Aziraphale sighed and his fingers, sliding off Crowley's skin, tensed up as if to hold him back and he couldn?t bring himself to leave the warmth or Aziraphale's bed or the protection of his arms.

For all he told himself he didn't want to stay, he knew that he could never bear to go; to leave the safety of the angel's bed was to leave Aziraphale vulnerable and alone, and Crowley's new and unexpected protective nature would not allow that.

He would not admit that he was in love, not for another few hundred years, but he would stay in Aziraphale's bed until morning, with cigarette smoke curling into the air to leave the lingering scent of tobacco, and the angel's head resting lightly against his shoulder.

 

 

*He believed that they actually existed.

 

* * *

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://library.good-omens.net/viewstory.php?sid=453>


End file.
